


A golden chance

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018)
Genre: Best Buddies, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friendship, Sick Brian, Sick Character, Sickfic, Sickness, Sweeeeeeeeet, Tea, as usual written as friends but if wanna read as maylor go on, british tv, helpful Roger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 00:29:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17070059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: Brian is sick, and feeling bad that Roger is giving up on parties to look after him.Classic sickfic, fluffyness.





	A golden chance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Foggy16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foggy16/gifts).



> Requested by Foggy16. This was done with a combination of a speech to text app (that kept writing Dragon when I said Roger?) and my one-handed typing (I only have one working, non-plastered arm) so there may be some typos. Hope you enjoy anyways!

Brian felt terrible. He had been struggling with a sinus infection for the last couple of weeks and he was really tired of how much his head hurt. He couldn't think properly, and he really hated not being able to think as he normally did. His head felt clogged, wrong, unable to complete even the simplest processes, the simplest thoughts. Just making himself a cup of tea was a whole ordeal. His movements were sluggish and slow, and he often dropped things on the floor. He was tired, exhausted even, and he wanted to get better, but his body refused to cooperate.

He was awful at doing things on his own (dropped everything, didn't do anything properly...) but he really didn't want to keep bothering his friends anymore. They had been very patient and helpful those last two weeks, but they all had a life, friends and commitments to get back to. It wasn't fair on them to keep asking for more help. Not when all this time had passed, not when they had done all of that for so long.

He should be recovered by now, and they had the right to do their own thing, go back to their very interesting and very eventful lives. Forget about old sick Brian his stupid sickness that refused to clear up. Go back to their parties, to their own issues. He couldn't even remember when was the last time he had seen Roger with one of his ladies - he had been there with Brian, on his sickbed for so long.

And Brian knew that it wasn't easy for Roger to be this soft-spoken and careful, to be gentle. Roger was usually a very brash, brutal kind of person, he was loud and lively, he liked doing everything fast and outrageously. But he had the good sense to moderate himself when he was around someone sick. Sure, you'd have to be very close to him to earn his care, and most people were just told to suck it up. But when he decided you were worthy of his attention...

Then he was a whole new Roger. He was like a completely different person. Caring, careful, thoughtful, soft-spoken, even (and it was odd to use this word to describe Roger) pleasant. Because he'd known Brian for so long, he knew exactly what to do and what to say to him to make him feel better. It would be nice if it wasn't so unlike him. This Roger felt... Off somehow. Too nice.

Brian didn't know how to feel. He was grateful, of course, but his gratitude was mixed up with guilt from keeping Roger from fun. Sure, it was the drummer's choice to stay, but... He wanted to enjoy Roger's company, because he was a good friend, one of his oldest friends, actually....But having him there, away from the fun and the parties, when Roger belonged there in the middle of it all.... Still, Brian tried not to be odd to Roger.

The blond was the only one who was picking up the pieces of his broken teacups. He tsked, and instructed Brian to go back to bed, or at least to the couch.

"I told you to ask me if you want some tea. You are still sick, you shouldn't be getting up."

See? That did not sound like him. It sounded like someone nicer, Deaky maybe, someone that definitely wasn't Roger.

"You should be out having the time of your life, not here with me. You've been here long enough." Brian knew that Roger was awfully stubborn and that he wouldn't change his mind... But he had to try.

"I'm not leaving you alone, you idiot.” Roger said. “Not while you are still like this."

Brian looked terrible, even after two weeks of tender loving care. His nose was red and clogged, his face slightly flushed from the fever that had been plaguing him on and off for the last two weeks, his hands shaking. His eyes were bright and often lost focus, and his hair was even messier than usual. He looked sick, because that was what he was, and Roger would have been an awful friend if he left him alone. And he actually prided himself on being a great friend, so....

Brian sat on the couch, let Roger put a blanket on him. He felt awful, and although he knew it was a stupid, illogical thought, he feared that he would stay sick forever and one day Roger would be all resentful because he'd lost years of his life looking after him. It was dumb thought, and Brian usually discarded dumb ideas with ease, but lately... Lately, he was weak, awfully weak, and thought and said things with no filter.

"I should be okay right now.... I don't know why I'm still not good. We are all just beginning to get well known because of the music.... You deserve to be out there, celebrating."

He looked at Roger with imploring sad eyes. _Go, have fun, leave me and my snot and my clogged head to rot here._ Roger was having none of it.

"So do you" Brian deserved to be celebrating every bit as much as them. It was a no-brainer.

"But I can't."

"Then I can't either." Roger said matter-of-factly. Brian frowned.

"You are making my headache worse."

Roger just smiled one of those 1000-watts smiles of his, as if everything was ok.

"Shut up, you love having me around. Let me get you that cup of tea and let's see what's on the telly."

Still, Brian felt terrible. Roger was very much a party person and Brian and his stupid inflamed sinuses were keeping him away from all the good times. Just because he was feeling a bit ill.

Maybe it was more than just a bit.... Maybe he had a terrible fever for the last 5 days, that had just started going down to an acceptable temperature. Maybe his airways had been quite blocked for the last ten days, making it difficult for him to breathe, and maybe without the medication and the care of his friends he probably would have to be hospitalized....

But it still felt wrong to rob a party animal like Roger from a nice Saturday night. Especially now that people were starting do you know who he was and ask for autographs and pictures- and Brian could see how his friend lit up when people recognised him, asked for an autograph. Roger loved attention, and deserved to be doing something he loved.

“I can manage on my own. You can go out." It came out nasal and wrong, not doing much for Brian's case.

"Nah, I don't feel like going out." Roger lied. He always wanted to go out, but some things were more important.

Even through his clogged foggy head, Brian could tell it was a lie. A nice lie, to make him feel better. His heart melted a little. Super outgoing loud party animal Roger was passing on a night of fun to keep him company. It was...endearing, almost.

“Think about this way, Bri. You're actually doing me a favor, giving my tired body a rest from the alcohol and the late nights that never seem to stop...This is probably good for me, this weekend off, and I wouldn't get it without you. You're actually aiding my health.”

It was a nice rational explanation as to why he shouldn't feel bad. And Roger knew him so well, he'd known exactly what to say to make him feel at peace.

"Why are you never this nice when I'm healthy?"

Roger pretended to be extremely offended.

"I'm always nice, how dare you!" Roger smiled- he had all the smiles Brian had run out of, all the life, all the joy. He made the tea while humming a song, put the tea cups on the table in front of them and then threw himself on the couch next to Brian.

"What are we watching?"

They watched nearly everything. All the British soap operas, a lot of documentaries, cartoons, Benny Hill, anything and everything that would distract that curly haired music man from his plight. Roger commented on everything and then, when Brian fell asleep, he brought some more blankets and pillows for the sick man, and even put some water and the medication in the table in front of the bed.

Ok, so maybe Roger was a handful sometimes. He was fond of the old scream, he was bitchy and got into fights on the smallest slight. But if someone he cared about needed him... He could be better – he could be an angel. And he remained mostly angelic for the remainder of Brian's illness, making tea and soup, helping him to the doctor, that sort of thing.

Roger got a bad cold the following year, and Brian cleared his very busy schedule completely, threw himself on the couch, next to his sick friend.

“What are we watching?”

There was no more need for guilt, for misery or any of those ugly feelings that didn't lead anywhere.

Just another golden chance to bask in each other's company.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You know you want to comment!


End file.
